


I wanna stay up late

by LondonGypsy



Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark night, a fireplace, a soft rug and two sleepy boys...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wanna stay up late

Steve strummed softly over the strings of his guitar, listening after the silent sounds echoing in the quiet room. His head was tilted and the long, blond hair fell in his eyes. He tucked the curls back behind his ears, deep in thought, not realizing that Christian had entered the room. 

Christian threw a short look at his friend before he patted into the nearby kitchen, opening the fridge and peeked in. He shortly considered the water standing right next to the JD but then he shook his head, grinning inwardly. He took the bottle and set it on the counter. He grabbed two shot glasses and filled them with ice. He listened to the crackling sound the ice cubes made as the golden liquid poured over them. Carefully he carried both glasses back into the dark living room and set them on the coffee table before he sat down on the couch.   
Steve still didn’t notice that he wasn’t alone anymore. 

He was sitting on the floor, his back to the room, on the thick, fluffy rug in front of the fireplace where a small fire lit the room just barely. Long shadows danced over the walls, and once in a while a soft crack or burst from the wood broke the silence. 

Christian reached for his glass and took a small drink of his whiskey, closing his eyes as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. He sighed inaudible and leaned back, watching his band mate and best friend.   
Steve was bent over his instrument, plucking and very quietly humming, lost in his own world of music, notes and lyrics. His hair hid his face, but Christian saw the straight line of his nose and the strong contour of his chin. Steve only wore a thin white shirt and some shorts; the fire radiated a comfortable warmth, even though Christian could see the snow against the big windows. 

He took another sip of his drink, while he let his eyes slowly slide over the broad shoulders, seeing the muscles work under the white fabric while Steve played. Further down the back, and his fingers closed tight around his glass, over the small of his back and the bare skin, revealed between the shirt and the short.   
Christian's gaze followed the long leg, spread out, the other one tugged under it and the quick thought “That can not be comfy,” crossed his mind, before the softly tanned flesh of Steve’s muscular leg wiped any other thoughts away. His small foot was bare and the long toes wiggled in time with the tender playing.   
Christian emptied his glass and set it with a gentle “clink” back on the table. 

Steve’s head shot up but as he saw Christian sitting on the couch he smiled his brilliant, room-brightening smile at him.   
“Hey, man,” he said silently, shaking the hair out of his eyes.   
“Hey,” Christian answered a little breathless and nodded to the full glass still sitting on the low table.   
“Oh. Thanks.” Steve carefully laid the guitar down before he took a sip of the whiskey.   
Steve was still smiling at him.  
“We nailed it tonight, didn’t we?!”  
Christian muttered his approval; the gig had been perfect, the party after it long and they were too drunk, so they crashed here, with a few other people, at Riley's house.  
“Can't sleep, hmm?” Christian asked, tucking his bare feet in the cushions of the couch.   
“Uh-oh, too wound up,” Steve said and frowned at him as he saw the movement.   
“C'mere, its warmer here.” He patted the rug, pushing his guitar aside.   
Christian stood up, shuffled around the table and with a sigh he sat down on the floor, feet close to the flames. He leaned back on his elbows, closing his eyes as the warmth reached his feet. He hadn’t noticed how cold they were and he smiled contently.   
Steve tilted his head, watching him with a soft expression on his face. Christian felt his eyes on him and he opened his own, looking up and into Steve's.   
“What?” he asked quietly, blowing a single strand of hair out of his face.   
Steve didn’t say anything, just raised a hand and stroked the strand away. His fingertips brushed over Christian's temples and he got goose bumps from that single touch.   
“You.” Steve whispered, his voice a little huskier than usual; the sound of it shot a hot shiver down Christian's spine. 

He wanted to sit up but Steve put his hand on his chest, shaking his head slightly. Christian looked down on the hand, just being there, no pressure, no nothing, just laying on his chest, permeating heat through his shirt. He felt every finger, every single callus, saw the tiny hair, golden in the dim light and as he raised his gaze again he found Steve’s eyes immediately, watching him, waiting.   
He looked back, not moving, barely breathing, drowning in the blue, forgetting everything around him, just seeing those eyes, framed by dark, thick lashes, shimmering in the glint of the fire.   
Neither of them looked away nor even blinked and as Steve slowly closed the distance between them, Christian just stayed like he was: propped on his elbows, feeling the heat of the fire on his feet. 

Steve’s lips were warm and soft on his and Christian shivered. Their silent moans mixed as Steve's tongue flicked against his mouth. Christian shifted, raised his hand and tangled it in Steve’s curly hair before he pulled him down with him. Steve laid half over Christian’s upper body, a solid and strong weight. His hand came up and cupped Christian's face, his thumb caressing his cheekbone. Christian gently licked over Steve’s lips and he opened with a groan, granting him access. Their tongues met and both shuddered at the sensation.   
Carefully Steve nudged against Christian, drawing a low growl from him. Encouraged by the little noises Christian made Steve deepened the kiss, pressing against the hard body under him and his free hand stroked Christian's side. His fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt and Christian growled. His grip in Steve’s hair tightened and he pulled him closer, slinging his arm around his waist, keeping him in place. Their tongues never part, swirling around each other, dancing and playing, lazily and gentle, drinking in the taste and the scent of the other one.   
Nothing was important anymore, both were lost in each other, lost in the kiss, lost in the feeling of soft skin under their palms.

Christian shifted a little and Steve slid off of him, earning a disappointed groan. Steve chuckled quietly and arranged his limbs along Christian's body so that they touched from head to toe. Christian buzzed deep in his throat but Steve heard the content undertone. He smiled into the kiss, licking deep into Christian's mouth, trying to catch the amazing taste of him before he pulled away. One hand was still under Christian's shirt, brushing slightly over the heated skin, seizing the smooth feeling against his fingertips. Christian breathed a little harder and Steve raised his hand to push the hair out of his face. He let his hand run through the silky thickness, combing it gently, over and over again. He watched Christian's eyes flutter, the long dark lashes shutting out the deep sapphire color of his eyes as he bowed his head to give Steve better access. His head fell against Steve’s chest and he was almost purring as Steve's fingers fondled his neck, wrapping locks of his hair around his fingers.   
“God, that feels so good,” he murmured before he lifted his head and kissed him with a passion and a desire that made Steve's heart stutter in his chest.

Christian broke the kiss, panting, and then he leaned back, searching Steve’s eyes. Blue pierced into blue, eyes locked for what seemed like forever, drowning in each others gaze. Eventually Steve's bruised lips curled into a mellow smile.   
“Wait a sec,” he whispered, trying to sit up.  
“Where you're going?,” Christian drawled lowly, hands tightening in Steve's shirt.   
“Just getting more comfy.” Steve loosened Christian's hands, stood up, walking to the couch and grabbed all the cushions. He threw them over to the rug, getting the blanket, laying over the armrest and came back to the fireplace. He knelt down, arranged the cushions and sat back.   
“C'mere,” he mumbled, pulling Christian into his arms and tugged him with him down. Christian laid his head on his chest, arm over his belly and legs entwined. Steve reached out, pulling the blanket over them both.   
Limps tangled together, warmed by the heat of each other and the fire, they watched the flames in the fireplace slowly dying down, listening to the deep breaths of each other, exchanging sweet kisses and delicate touches.   
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, fingers wandering over Christian's back, up and down, making the other man tremble under his touch.   
“Tell you what?” came the silent reply.   
“That. This. Us.” Steve said, kissing Christian's head, “didn’t know, you feel like this.”  
“Oh.”   
Steve chuckled lowly and Christian pressed a little closer, sliding his hand under Steve’s shirt, sighing deeply at the feeling.   
“You feel good, you know that?” Christians voice was hoarse and the longing tone made Steve shiver.  
“That doesn’t answer my question, Chris,” Steve insisted, but Christian's fingers over his skin distracted him and as Christian slid up and kissed him carefully, just a faint swipe of lips and tongue, Steve forgot why he even had asked. 

They kept kissing, tenderly and sleepily, hands brushing over naked skin under soft fabric, dreamlike and quiet to not disturb the magic of the night; it was late, the house was calm and dark.  
Eventually Steve pulled back, eyes shining brightly, lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed.   
“We should sleep,” he mumbled, fingertips still moving under Christian's shirt.   
“Hmmmm.” A quiet grunt and Christian closed his arms around Steve’s waist, head pressed against his chest, not allowing him to move away.   
“C'mon, let's go to bed.” Steve grumbled reluctantly in Christian's hair, trying to push him away.   
“Let's stay here.” Just a silent whisper but Steve jerked back, searching the other man's eyes.   
“You serious?” he finally asked and as Christian nodded, he sank back in the cushions.  
He didn’t care who would find them here in the morning, he didn’t care what they would say. All he knew and cared about was the man next to him, surrounding him with warmth and love.  
Christian's arms wrapped around him, he shifted closer until his ear was pressed against Christian's chest. A soft smile lingered on his lips as he listened to Christian's steady heartbeat and slowly he drifted into sleep.   
“Sleep, Stevie.”   
Christian's voice was almost inaudible but Steve still heard him.   
“You too, Chris,” he murmured, stroking the small of Christian's back.   
Christian didn’t say anything but he started humming, soft buzzing noises, rumbling in his chest.   
Steve snickered as he recognized which song he'd chose.   
With the hushed words of “Don't Move On ” he fell asleep, Christian's voice following him into the depths of his dreams. 

 

Jensen stumbled into the living-room, still half asleep as he saw the foot, sticking out from under the blanket in front of the fireplace. He frowned, but as he walked past the couch to woke up whoever crashed there, he froze. His gaze slid over the two men, sleeping peacefully, hair mixed together on the pillow, faces only inches away from each other. He grinned as the blond shifted in his sleep and the dark-haired one grumbled, shifting as well, closer to the other one.   
A full smile lit Jensen's face as an arm appeared, looping around Steve’s waist. Jensen saw how Christian tightened his grip, pulling the other man back against his body, face buried in the messy hair.  
“Jen? What the....?”   
“Shhh....” he whispered, turning to Riley who stood in the hallway, frowning at him.   
“Look,” Jensen said and waved him over.   
“Wh...? Awww... look at that.” Riley laughed silently as he saw what Jensen meant.  
“Was about fucking time,” he grunted, patting Jensen’s back and walked back upstairs.   
Jensen smiled and took two steps back, quietly closing the door.   
“Yeah,” he mumbled to himself as he went back to his room,”was about time.”


End file.
